Bull Baiting
by MorganaLakes
Summary: So how does Tremere magical training look like, anyway? An excerpt from "Chess Game."  My thanks to the RL occult group who were an inspiration for this, and who, unlike the Tremere as a whole, actually have a sense of humor.


_This story is a part of "The Chess Game." My thanks to the occult group that was the inspiration for this snippet - the "" crowd - although they wouldn't be caught dead - or undead - being this serious. :P_

_There is also a modification of "Purge the Inner Demon" mentioned here which is the invention of our local Tremere chantry in the Kiev vampire LARP. In essence, it places a temporary enchantment on the iron spike (or nail, in this case), allowing any magus to just bring someone out of Frenzy by pushing the nail through their hand._

"Come here."

To Lindbergh it seemed as if his voice rang with power. Yet red-haired Louis merely smiled and said, "Go drown in the Seine, you simpleminded dupe."

"Come here."

"Or better yet, in a dump well."

"Come here."

Louis gave a moment's thought. "I shall ask the Prince Beatrice the very best dumping wells for you. I heard they had sent you to clean them while you were hers? I was so glad that I could send you there!"

And Lindbergh came to, held up in the air at an arm's length from the chantry's First Apprentice. Louis smiled charmingly, releasing him, and the former mage crashed to the floor. He did not want to come to: even though the Beast had been silenced by magic, the stone cell and two vampires in it did not become any more pleasant.

"You are trying my patience." Ethan sighed from somewhere behind. "We're going to run out of nails soon enough."

"True enough." Louis added. "The whole chantry has been enchanting these damn nails so someone could learn at least the basics of Dominate. How.."

Lindbergh raised his head and gave such a glare that Ethan exclaimed, "Hey, careful! Let me get another nail first!"

"Got it?" Asked Louis in a few seconds' time. "Then let us continue. The whole chantry toils at these thrice-damned nails so that the someone sitting like a stupid oaf on the floor right now could learn the beginnings of Dominate without breaking our furniture. Hey, apprentice of the second circle? What's the problem? I thought you had studied mental magic in life?"

"First apprentice..." Lindbergh finally found the strength to speak. "The Prince and her dumpwells have wanted to see you. You should..."

"Silence!"

The mental command was, as always, deafening. The voice went through his mind like lightning, discharging all words from his mind. Even when Lindbergh had sparred with the experienced mages of his former House, House Tytalus, he had never felt anything like this. Of course, the famous masters of the Sphere of Mind rarely used a cudgel when they could use the tiny hammer of a skilled silversmith. But as the former mage already understood, thaumaturges had nothing but cudgels remaining to them.

And that cudgel kept slipping his hands.

"Apprentice of the Second Circle, you are indeed a cretin." Louis crossed his hands in amusement. "How could you not understand such elementary things as the fact that insulting higher-ups is not advisable?"

"Listen, Louie." Ethan spoke suddenly. "Maybe we could just forbid him insults?"

"And not get the educational effect?" Louis seemed to enjoy the sound of his own voice and swayed from heel to toe, trembling with expectation. "Besides, I am made so happy by the simple fact that this fool will be doing soon the dirtiest work reserved for servants! You have no idea how happy, Ethan..."

For this evening alone, Lindbergh had indeed earned a month of the simplest and most unpleasant punishments. Louis would have earned no less, however - for in theory, the Tremere Oath demanded respect of all magi to all other magi, even with the caveat that the younger magi would recieve "the respect they earn." But Louis had crossed even the line that applied equally to novice and regent alike multiple times during the evening. De Lyon had made it known that should Lindbergh remember to call to the Oath for justice, justice he would have, and both magi would be punished equally for their deeds. Yet the former mage would not invoke the Oath.

And the First Apprentice knew this.

"And we should think of something for now. For the educational effect. While we wait for your nail to wear off." Louis gave a thoughtful sniff, then clapped his hands at the approach of an idea. "Ah! I think we should find out what of your mortal life so inhibits you in learning! So tell us of how you learned... What was it? Ars Mentis?"

Lindbergh was quickly silenced by a command, for he had instead begun listing the unsavory roots of Louis' genealogical tree.

"Tell us in all detail how you studied mind magic!"

But Lindbergh had already bought time and braced himself for this kind of Domination. The former mage had always had great memory.

"At the beginning, my mentor, who had always worn a black suit of the best and thinnest wool-cloth of England, dyed with a black dye of the finest hues, the secret of which is kept - or so they think - locked within one Florentine family..."

"Enough!" Louis interrupted him. Strangely enough, the First Apprentice did not seem angry, even though he had just fallen into a child's mistake by Lindbergh's reckoning. "Good trick. Tell us of the training procedures alone."

Lindbergh shook his head. The command had missed its mark. "This is difficult to put into words. Especially the first bits of training. I cannot."

"You must have had some exercises. Those same commands which you cannot seem to master, despite them being the simplest of all actions."

"That is not so."

"What is not so, dupe?" Barked Louis. "You had no exercises?"

"Of course we had them." It was Lindbergh who was laughing now, explaining the obvious. "But for your information, First Apprentice, a command is an elementary act, meaning simple, meaning indivisible, only for those who cannot do anything more subtle. As the old adage goes, brawn instead of brain."

He seemed to get to Louis, but the shadow of doubt passed momentarily.

"But he who has no power could not give a command." Guessed Louis correctly. "So that was the problem. You've never had such power in your hands before. But that is fine. Even the weakest runt will bite when kicked."

"Yet I had already had power over that which you have difficulty with still." Lindbergh responded calmly.

"Over what?"

Lindbergh looked the First Apprentice in the eye, and smiled mercilessly.

"It was easy for me to breed simple panic." The First Apprentice listened attentively, having not recognized their first meeting, Lindbergh's capture at the price of three dead vampires. So the former mage continued: "Alone. And you needed six on the street for tha..."

Louis roared! The Beast overtook his mind, and Lindbergh would have been crippled, if not killed outright, if not for the always-calm alchemist.

"Begone!"

The First Apprentice sagged to the floor, his Beast as sealed as Lindbergh's own.

Ethan groaned and rubbed his left hand, pierced by yet another nail, then spread both hands, showing off the wounds. "Knowing you two, I shall need not be righteous to earn money begging by the Notre Dame cathedral, showing off stigmata." The alchemist said wearily. "Having your aid, I shall soon feed the entire Chantry with bought blood. Let us get to work, colleagues, the night is not getting any younger."

"To wor-rk, yes." Said Louis angrily, getting up from the floor. "Come on, apprentice of the second circle. Do it right at least once, dimwit, and we shall leave this place."

"Don't you worry about me." The perspective of cleaning the ritual room of blood while hungry no longer seemed so bad to Lindbergh as it did minutes ago. "Better yet... Come here."


End file.
